A Long Day
by SparxFlame
Summary: When a group of Allosauruses come through an anomaly, the team know they're in for a long day. When Connor wakes up at midday and realises he was supposed to be at work hours ago, he knows he's in for trouble. And then Helen decides to crash the party...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Conner rubbed the back of his neck, wandering into the ARC. "Alright, what've I missed?" he asked to the room in general. No one answered. He took at closer look at the room. Ah. That would probably be because no one was there. Connor squinted around and saw a piece of paper pinned to the wall.

_To Connor:  
__If you're reading this, I'd just like to tell you you're an idiot. We've had an emergency, I left the co-ordinates on the Anomaly Detector, and I need you to get here soon. You're the only one who can work all this wretched technology! We've got a hunting pack of Allosauruses, if that encourages you. I know they're not T-rexes, but they're pretty close._

_HURRY UP!_

_Abby._

"Great," muttered Connor, wandering vaguely in the direction of what he hoped was the Anomaly Detector. Despite the fact that it was nearly midday, his brain still wasn't working properly. Probably due to the fact he'd only got about six hours sleep. Abby had been off visiting a friend, and had planned on sleeping over before going straight to the ARC the next morning. Connor had happily agreed to feed the reptiles in the evening, promised not to trash the flat, and reassured her he would be up in time for work without her there to pull him out of bed.

He had then proceeded to forget to feed the snakes, make a huge mess trying to cook an omelette for dinner, and had stayed up till nearly four in the morning watching a Star Wars marathon. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa, and had only woken up at twelve due to the growing hunger pangs.

Abby was going to kill him. So was Lester. In fact, everyone was. When they said emergency, they must really mean it, because no one was there. Literally, no one. He'd never heard the ARC so quiet. Not even a lonely scientist with his clipboard and pen wandering around. He wondered exactly what the Allosauruses had been up to that had got the team in such a panic.

A sharp pain in his ankle made him look down abruptly. A flash of blue-green millipedey-ness near his foot made him stamp down, hard. He couldn't stand the long, thin creepy-crawlies, especially not inside buildings. Lifting his foot to check what he had squashed, a small cut on his ankle that he was sure hadn't been there a second ago caught his eye. He leant down to look more closely and the world began to tilt worryingly, heat searing up his right leg to his chest.

As the scene before his eyes spun madly, he collapsed on the floor, and the last thing he saw before his eyes closed was the swirling patterns on the screen of the Anomaly Detector, making his mind blur as his eyes tried to keep up with them. Then everything went dark.

Worryingly, though, he was still conscious. He could hear the faint hum of the computers; smell the clinical scent that seemed to linger in the ARC. The light from the anomaly sent patterns swirling on the back of his eyelids.

Footsteps approached, and Connor drew in a hissing breath. _Help me!_ he tried to say, but his jaw wouldn't move. The footsteps grew louder. _Help me! HELP! I'm over here! HELP ME!!! _he screamed in his head, panicking. Nothing seemed to be working, his muscles had frozen up, and he couldn't even speak.

The footsteps stopped. _That's it! It's me! I'm not lying on the ground for fun, you know,_ thought Connor, wondering why the person wasn't going for help. Something kicked his side, and he was rolled over onto his back. After a second, the person snorted derisively and laughed, the footsteps growing fainter.

_No! NO! Come back! It's me, Connor! Help me. Please. Please. COME BACK!_

Left on his own, blind, unable to move, in an empty ARC, Connor did the only thing he could. Panic.

_HELP!!!!_

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**I'm alive! Yes, indeed, I have woken up from my fanfic hibernation and found my muse! Actually, it's probably my insistance that the entire story is written before I post anything that makes me so slow. Still, at least you're gaurenteed regular updates. I know this one is quite short, but they will get longer - even though this is probably the shortest story I've ever written. Well, serious story at least. ****For those of you that read **_Ten Things You Should Never Ever, _**this is the reason I've been so slow at updating. Well, this and Painful Memories, which may or may not be up soon.**

**Quick explanation: This story takes place mid series 2, as thats how far I've got watching, apart from a few random series 3 eps. That means the team consists of Connor, Abby, Nick, Claudia, Stephen, Lester and Leek (who has no part in this story because I think he's kinda creepy and I can't seem to writ him in character). Yeah, this is my first Primeval fic, so if I've made any errors, be it with canon or spelling/grammar, please tell me.**

**Please review! Or I'll set the scuttle om nom noms on you. :D**


	2. Findings

Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's not mine. Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, not me.

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**Findings**

"Where the heck is that idiot?" grumbled Nick Cutter, stomping moodily around the anomaly site. They had eventually managed to herd the Allosauruses back through the anomaly, with minimum loss of life (a passing dog had become altogether too interested in the passing dinosaurs and had been trampled. Stephen was still trying to reason with the distraught owner, and persuade her she had not just seen a herd of prehistoric creatures storming down her favourite walking route.)

Abby sighed. "How should I know?"

"Possibly because he lives in your flat?" asked Nick in irritation, looking at Claudia as she went to help a faltering Stephen, who seemed to have made the dead-dog situation much, much worse. The poor woman was almost in hysterics.

He caught her words "huge flying lizard swooped from the sky and burnt it to a crisp, and you say-" float over, heard Stephen interrupt with a "no, it was an Allosaurus," and sighed. Jenny was now berating Stephen for revealing 'classified information' to an 'unknown and untrustworthy source'. Today had been a _long_ day, and it still wasn't even lunchtime. The anomaly was still open, but nothing seemed to be coming through.

Stephen had had a look on the other side – before the Allosauruses had come – and there was little sign of life, apart from a few scurrying things that looked about as harmless as dinosaurs ever got. So hopefully, nothing else would come through. But Nick had never trusted to 'hopefully' in his whole life, which meant they would need to be here for as long as it took the anomaly to disappear.

He looked at his watch again, and made a tactical decision. "Okay, Abby, we need Connor here to give us a hand with the surveillance. It looks like we're in for the long haul on this." Abby groaned, and Nick wholeheartedly agreed with the sentiment. "Yeah, I know. One more thing, I need you to take the broken tranquilizer gun, and that anomaly detector that's going haywire back to the ARC first. Please? It's not that far off course."

After much groaning and complaining, Abby agreed, dragging herself back to her car. Then she thought about the look on Connor's face when she woke him up with an angry yell and a bucketful of ice on his face, and cheered up slightly.

xXx

Inside the ARC, Connor's hearing seemed to have sharpened immensely with the removal of his sight. Whether that was the case, or whether he was merely more aware, now, of the sound of the computers humming, the lights buzzing, and small drips and gurgles coming from the plumbing, he didn't know. And he didn't really care. What he cared about where the set of footsteps echoing across the ARC for the second time since he'd- collapsed? Fainted? Had a seizure? Died? He wasn't really sure. Possibly a combination off all of the above. Apart from the dying.

He hoped.

In the hour or so he'd been lying there (or at least he thought it was an hour. Being blind with nothing to hear but repetitive sounds, and no way of moving, had somewhat skewed his sense of time passing) he'd come up with a few ideas as to what had happened and how.

One, he had some rare, undiagnosed disease that resulted in him randomly collapsing, and it had only recently manifested its symptoms. Highly unlikely, due to the fact that he didn't know of any such disease, either by name or by notion, but it was a good conspiracy theory.

Two, the reheated Chinese noodles that he'd eaten after the omelette disaster were more past their sell-by date than the packet had suggested, and he had food poisoning; salmonella, or something like that. Possible, but he'd never heard of and food poisoning side effect being a coma.

Then that left third, that the pain he'd felt in his ankle had been a bite of some kind, from a poisonous creature – possibly the millipede type creature he'd squashed – and who's venom immobilised the victim so they couldn't run off while they were being eaten.

Depressingly, that was the most likely (and also least desirable) situation. But, on the plus side, he didn't feel like he'd been eaten, so maybe the thing had left. Or maybe the poison dulled the victims nerves, so…

He'd cut that trail of thought off very firmly. The idea of waking up and finding he was missing a leg didn't appeal to him at all, thank you very much.

The footsteps were coming closer now, approaching the Anomaly Detector. He picked up a faint humming noise, slightly tuneless, and his heart soared as he recognised it as the tune Abby had been humming all week.

_Abby!_ he yelled silently, trying to move. Nothing happened. The footsteps were so close now he could almost feel them, hear the echo-

Something large and soggy landed on his chest. If he'd been able to talk, he would have yelped, but as it was he had to content himself with an internal cringe. There was, however, a yelp from above him. The large and soggy thing was removed from his chest. Connor suspected it was Abby's shoe.

There was a sharp intake of breath. "There you are, you idiot. C'mon, get up. We've got an anomaly to track."

_Nononoooooo…_ moaned Connor in his head. _Abby, help. Please. I know this seems like it's a joke, but really, honestly, it's not. And there's some weird person running around in the ARC. Help!_

"Connor. This really isn't funny, you know." Abby sounded half irritated, half seriously worried.

_I know it isn't! I'm the one on the floor, yeah? Believe me, these floors were not built for sleeping on. Really quite cold. Design flaw, actually. C'mon Abby! I'm not messing!_

"Connor! Oh god, Connor, please. Move or something! Connor?" There was a little hitch in her breathing, almost like…

_Abby… Abby, are you- crying?!_

"Oh god." Her voice was definitely shaking. "Connor, if you can hear me, I know you're supposed to talk people through what you're doing, in case they regain consciousness, or they can hear you. Or something like that. I'm gonna take your pulse, 'kay?" There was a rustle of fabric as Abby crouched down, and soft hands cupped his face briefly before fastening around his left wrist. Abby muttered to herself, and Connor guessed she was counting heart beats.

After a minute, the hands moved, and Connor sensed rather than felt a hand hovering over his mouth. "Thank goodness you're breathing," she mumbled, turning him over onto his side, positioning his arms and legs in the recovery position.

"Oh, _Connor_," she whispered, running a hand through his hair in a surprisingly tender gesture. "What happened to you, hmm? No wonder we didn't see you at work. Busy zoning out on the ARC floor. Better places to have a sleep, yes?" She chuckled, and then remembered something. "Though, if you've trashed my flat, I'm still going to kill you."

Connor wished he could roll his eyes. Then he had a horrible thought – Abby reckoned he was unconscious. He obviously wasn't. Well, he didn't think he was, at least. What if she started talking to him, like people did on TV when they thought someone was in a coma? What if she said something horribly embarrassing, or really personal? What if- _Oh god, what if they start trying to treat me for whatever's happened? What if they think it won't hurt, 'cos I'll be unconscious? I'll be stuck, unable to move, unable to tell them it hurts- oh, please, PLEASE don't let that happen…_

Abby frowned at the 'unconscious' Connor on the floor. "Better tell Nick…" she whispered almost to herself. Gently setting down the tranquilizer gun and anomaly detector on the floor, she fumbled in her pocket for her mobile.

"Nick? Yeah, hi, it's Abby. I'm in the ARC."

There was a pause. "So?" asked Nick impatiently.

"…I've found Connor. He's- well, as far as I can tell, he's comatose. Still breathing normally, good heart rate, all the basic vital signs. Just not moving. No response to physical or verbal stimuli. Eyes are closed. I've put him in the recovery position, but that's about all I can do. No obvious sign of injury – a small cut on his ankle, but that doesn't usually send people into comas."

Nick's irritable hissing exhalation sounded like a crackly growl over the dodgy phone line. "Of all the days… That kid sure knows how to pick his moments. Sorry about the bad reception by the way."

"Nick!" said Abby, shocked. "It's not like he decided to keel over today."

"You don't know that," muttered Nick darkly, his Scottish accent thickening as it always did when he got annoyed. "Well, I guess the first step is to- BLOODY HELL!"

Abby heard the vehement exclamation repeated from surrounding people – although often in less polite wording. There was a sharp crunching sound, then another. Wind rushed in a crackle of static, and there was a huge bellow of anger – inhuman and terrifying. Someone screamed, and was cut off with a nasty snapping noise, followed by a wet slurp.

"Err... Nick? Nick?! Cutter, can you hear me? What's going on?!" said Abby as calmly as possible – which was not very.

"T-rex- wait, two t-rexes," gasped Nick. Abby could almost see him looking wildly around, his brain already calculating methods of trapping and herding the creatures back to the anomaly, or stopping them at any cost if that couldn't be achieved. "Just came through. Trampled a load of the SAS guys. Ate one. The dinosaurs are heading for…" he paused and conferred with someone off screen, "A village near here by the name of Long Maddlesbrough. Abby, I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do for Connor right now. I need you _here_, now. Just… put him somewhere safe and comfy, and get down here as fast as you can. Leave a note for him if it'll make you feel better.

Abby gaped. "NICK! We have no idea what's wrong with him, when he'll wake up – _whether _he'll wake up – and if he does, what state he'll be in! I should at least take him to hospital. We can't just leave him and…" she struggled for words.

"Of course we can. I'm sorry, Abby, but let's face it – he's probably just had too much to drink, or eaten something funny. I highly doubt he's in that much trouble. He'll come round in half an hour or so, I imagine. Anyone at the hospital would probably say the same thing. Anyway, I don't have time for you to drive him there, and it's not serious enough for an ambulance to be called.

"No, don't argue with me. I need you on this one, Abby. Two t-rexes is _not_ a walk in the park. I expect you here in twenty minutes, and if you aren't, I'll want to know why." And with that, Nick hung up and went to confer with the SAS people and the rest of his team.

Abby stared at the beeping phone in her hand. "Bloody idiot," she snarled in annoyance. Unfortunately, she knew Nick meant what he said. And T-rexes… He was probably right. Connor had hit his head or eaten something funny, and would come round in a bit. _And, _she told herself, _I am most definitely not trying to convince myself of that just so I'll feel okay leaving Connor here on his own…_

"Better get you somewhere more comfortable, hmm?" muttered Abby, picking Connor up with surprising ease. "God, you're light! Where to put you, though…" She thought for a second. "I _guess_ that'd be ok."

She started walking, with an all-too-not-unconscious Connor in her arms, who was confused, terrified, panicking, and very, very furious at Nick Cutter.


	3. Foe

Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's not mine. Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, not me.

**A/N: The violence begins here, people. Nothing to bad in this chapter, but if you're squeamish count this as a heads up. It won't get very ggraphic, but there will be a fair amount of blood and passing out.**

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**Foe**

Connor lay on the cold slab of metal, seething. Abby had put a sheet over it first, but that did little to stop the chill seeping through. She had put him on a bench in the autopsy room. In the _autopsy room_! He knew that the ARC didn't have a med bay, but really. Did he look like he was dead?

_Actually, I probably do,_ admitted Connor to himself, irritated. _And I'm not altogether sure I'm still alive – despite what Abby said about a pulse. I don't _feel _very alive. But, come on. She could have put me somewhere a _bit _less depressing._

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't hear the near-silent approach of the person that crept into the room. He only became aware when hot breath rushed past his head.  
"Poor, poor Connor. All alone. So cold, so _dark_. Are you enjoying it? Does it hurt? Do you _beg_ for death? Your friends left you, Connor. It's just me here. So, what to do with you… Hmm?" crooned the voice, darkly malicious in his ear. Cold hands fastened around his neck, and Connor lay there, helpless, paralysed, and terrified. He recognized that voice. He had heard it, so many times…

_Oh God no. This… it's all been planned. It's all a trap! CUTTER! ABBY! HELP!_

xXx

"Oh god, what did I do in my previous life to deserve T-rexes rampaging through the countryside, with it being my job to catch them?" moaned Nick Cutter, slumped in the back of the car. Stephen was driving, and none too smoothly.

"What happened to Connor, Abby?" asked Stephen, taking his eyes off the road for a second and nearly crashing into a tree. Claudia looked like she was about to be sick – she was clutching the door handle so hard her knuckles had turned white.  
"I just went into the ARC and he was… was collapsed," said Abby softly. She was paler than normal. Nick knew she was worried about Connor, and knew it was unfair to ask her to come and deal with dinosaurs while he was comatose, but this was the biggest problem they'd ever had – well, animal size-wise anyway – and he needed all the help he could get.

"I know you're upset Abby. I'm worried about Connor too, but if we don't sort this out, hundreds of lives will be at risk and our whole operation will be blown. What happens if the anomaly closes before we can get them back through?"

Abby shuddered at the thought. "I know, I know. It's just… he looked so ill…"  
"Connor'll be okay, Abby," said Stephen calmly, this time keeping his eyes on the road, thankfully. "He's a fighter. It's probably nothing. We'll get back and he'll be wondering where we've all got to! He'll be mad when he realises he's missed T-rexes."  
"Yeah," muttered Abby, looking slightly more cheerful. A slow smile spread across her face. "Speaking of which, we need to catch them and get them back in the anomaly. Anyone got any ideas how?"  
"Err…" For once, Stephen was at a loss for what to do. "Usually I'd say shoot it, but I doubt we've got anything big enough to handle something that size. Unless anyone has a handy missile launcher? Or a tank?"

"Well, if you'd given me a _bit_ more notice, then maybe I could have- Stephen, would you please slow down!" yelped Claudia as the speedometer rose above 90 mph.  
"You're not joking, are you?" said Abby in amazement, looking sideways at a decidedly green-looking Claudia.  
"Where on earth would you get a missile launcher from?" asked Nick, sounding genuinely curious.

"That, unfortunately, is classified information," replied Claudia stiffly. "Suffice to say, I have my contacts. Next time you need one, give me a couple of days notice, okay?"

"A woman of many talents!" said Stephen with a grin. "By day, she's a polite PR person. By night, she's a missile-throwing terrorist!" And before any of them could object to the statement, he slammed his foot down on the accelerator. "Let's see how fast this thing can go!" he yelled over the roar of the engine, completely ignoring the shrieked pleas for him to slow down.

xXx

_Helen!_ snarled Connor furiously, silently. _I am going to bloody kill you!_

Helens voice chuckled again in his ear, almost as if she could hear his thoughts. "Have you recognised me yet? Or are you truly unconscious? I've tested the venom on others, to make sure – to be ready, you understand. And I've never really got a comprehensive statement from them before they died. And I doubt I'll get any new ones, considering you most unhelpfully squashed my lovely little critter. How thoughtless of you. But I think you should at least be able to hear me. So Connor, what shall we do with you?"

_Leave me alone! _begged Connor silently. _Just go away and get eaten by a pteranodon or something!_

"I could kill you, you know," she whispered, and the hand around his neck tightened fractionally. "I could just leave you here and wait for you to succumb to the poison. I doubt your friends would be able to do anything. They've never, _ever_ encountered anything like this. But, anyway, where would be the fun in that? An easy victory is no victory at all, is it? You should know that, Connor."

The hand left his throat, and Connor gasped in relief. Footsteps echoed around the room as Helen paced back and forwards. "I could slice you open…" she said slowly. "After all, Abby laid you out nicely for me, didn't she? And in an _autopsy_ room!" Mirthless laughter filled the room, echoing sharply in Connors ears. "But, no, that would be no fun either. It might hurt, but you'd just lie there, wouldn't you? Because you won't be able to move. I could do a hundred and one other things to you. You know that, don't you, Connor Temple? What has my husband been saying about me? Has he told you I'm a psychopath? That I've gone mad? That I'm harmless really, just misunderstood?"

The footsteps stopped abruptly. "You know, talking to yourself is never as fun as it looks on TV," sighed Helen. "I think maybe I should wake you up."

The footsteps approached him. Helens fingers rolled up his shirt sleeve, and something was injected into the crook of his arm. "I feel I should tell you that this is the proper antidote, Connor. You're very lucky. I only used the temporary one all on all but two of my test subjects. Unfortunately, the temporary one doesn't give enough time for one to have a proper conversation with the person before they start screaming. Mind you, the permanent one makes you immune to the venom which means I can't use it on you again, so win some, loose some, I guess…"

Connor choked, his entire body stiffening as heat shot through him for the second time that day. His eyes snapped open, and everything seemed far too bright, and it was all blurry and rotating. He lunged to his feet, and there was a click as the safety catch was taken off a gun.

The room gave a particularly painful, violent lurch and Connors legs gave way. He cracked his head against the side of the autopsy slab – which didn't help with his swimming vision one bit – and ended up slumped against it on the floor, gasping for breath.

There was laughter from above him. He squinted up and saw a darkly fuzzy outline in varying shades of black, which seemed to be pointing something at him. "Welcome back, Connor," it said. "Now, don't try anything or I'll shoot you, okay? Good."

A hand grabbed at his hair and dragged him to his feet. He swayed drunkenly, clutching at the side of the table to keep his balance. Hot blood trickled down his neck from where he'd hit his head. He had no idea what Helen was going to do to him, but he was sure it wouldn't be good.

xXx

It didn't take them long to find the T-rexes. They'd left a trail of destruction behind them, and at the insane speed Stephen was driving, they caught up quickly. The dinosaurs had found a field full off cows to nibble on. It looked like the four horses who were grazing in a corner of the field away from the cows – looking rather nervous about the foreign smell of the dinosaurs – was to be next target.

Nick followed Stephen out of the car, watched in a kind of horrified fascination as one of the beasts grabbed a cow and ate half of it in one swallow. All the pictures in the books were _nothing_ compared to the actual size of the T-rexes, and the aura of power and indestructibleness they seemed to radiate. Claudia didn't seem to care, as she was still recovering from the breakneck car race.

Abby ran out of the car towards him, her mobile held to her ear. As she reached him and saw the mangled remains of the cow lying in the field, she looked slightly pale. She swallowed and looked at him, horror written all over her face. Nick groaned. _What more can happen?!_

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news…" started Abby nervously, "but the anomaly which these lovelies came out of has closed."

Nick groaned. Stephen swore. Claudia put her foot in a pile of cow dung. The farmer that owned the cows came running out of his house, screaming at the dinosaurs that were eating his animals. The T-rexes suddenly decided humans looked like much more fun prey than the things hat just stood there and moo-ed. And miles away inside the ARC, Connor was trapped with a psychopathic megalomaniac wielding a gun – but, of course, none of the others knew that.

_All in all_, thought Abby, the image of Connor looking practically dead flashing through her mind, _this day has gone just _great _so far._

**A/N: Hey! I updated! /faint cheering from one little hermit guy who lives on an island in the middle of the Pacific and is the only person who's reading this/ :D**


	4. Force

Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's not mine. Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, not me.

**A/N: Violence properly begins here. Screaming and sadistic!Helen. :D**

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**Force**

Still dizzy and half-blind from the venom, or whatever it was Helen had given him, Connor staggered through the ARC corridors at gun point. He had no idea what was going on, what Helen wanted from him, or why he was alive. Still, he was alive, which was the most important thing at that moment.

"Move!" growled Helen, prodding his back with the gun. He squinted, and swerved to avoid the blurry outline of the wall. He still couldn't see that well, and was navigating by a combination of snarled warnings from Helen, memory, squinting, and luck.

They arrived at the main research area. Connor stood still for a second, trying to get his bearings, work out an escape route – which was pretty hard to do when he still was a bit on the fuzzy vision side. He got a prod from the gun for his troubles. Helen guided him to the computer area, where the Anomaly Detector stood in all its bleeping, flashing, impossible glory. "Operate it. Log me on, and show me the data you've collected," ordered Helen.

Connor stood looking at his prize machine, at the blurry displays he could now just about make out. It was his pride and joy. He knew Helen would have no qualms about destroying it if he didn't co-operate.

He swallowed hard. "No," he said softly, crossing his arms. "Sorry. No can do."

He couldn't read Helen's face to see what she was feeling, but he heard her snarl of irritation. "Okay," she hissed, advancing on him. "Let me make this a bit easier for you." And she rammed the gun into his stomach.

Connor let out a choking gasp, collapsing onto hands and knees as he fought for breath. He coughed violently, and spots blood flecked his lips. When he tried to stand up, Helen kicked one arm out from underneath him and put her foot on his wrist. "Data, Connor. Now." She pressed down slightly with her foot, making Connor cringe. "I won't wait all day."  
"No," he said, trying to pull his arm away.

The pressure on his wrist increased, and Connor could actually feel the bones of his wrist scraping against each other. He moaned in pain, tugging at his arm to no avail. "You know I'll do it, Connor. I don't want to hurt you-"  
_Liar! _he thought.  
"-but I will if I have to. Anything that I do not control can be used as a weapon against me, and that makes it a threat. That includes the Anomaly Detector, that little team of yours, and _you_. Even my long-lost husband, if it comes to that. So, log me on."

Connor shuddered, looking up at Helens face which he could now see clearly, and wished he couldn't. It was full of a manic hatred, but also an almost religious fanaticism. She truly believed what she was doing was the best for humanity. Connor sighed – what chance did he have against a madwoman? Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "No." And flinched, waiting for the pressure on his wrist to increase. Nothing happened. Looking cautiously up at Helen, he saw she was smiling. A peculiar, head-tilted-to-one-side smile. "Connor, Connor, Connor," she sighed. "What am I to do with you, hmm?" And with that, she stamped down on his wrist.

Connor yelled. He couldn't help it. He heard a sickening crunch as a bone in his wrist broke. The pressure increased, and there was a snapping noise that brought bile to the back of his throat. Pain was shooting up his arm from his wrist, and down into his fingers. "STOP!" he sobbed, trying to drag his injured arm back and twisting into a ball on the floor, unable to bear any more. "Stop, please. I'll- I'll set up the machine."

Helen looked at him quizzically, and removed her foot. "Good boy." She smiled, patting his head, and removed her foot. Connor felt like he was about to throw up. His wrist was lopsided – distinctly broken, in at least two places. He didn't fancy feeling it to try and work out where. He was fighting hard enough to keep from crying without adding any more pain into the equation.

Clambering to his feet, he staggered over to the Anomaly Detector, his left shoulder sloped awkwardly downwards as he tried to minimize the movement of his throbbing broken wrist. Having only one operational hand would make this a lot more difficult to do, but if he couldn't pull it off, he was doomed to the tender mercies of Helen. Which, surprisingly enough, he didn't really fancy. He didn't think he would come out quite so well next time he refused to do what she wanted.

_How long will it take, _he wondered, _for her to realise it'd be a lot less hassle to put a bullet through my skull and just blow up the Anomaly Detector?_

xXx

"Sir!" Abby yelled at the elderly man shaking his stick at the T-rex. She doubted he was actually the farmer – probably a farm hand, or the farmer's grandfather. Maybe a previous owner or something. Whoever he was, he was on the right track if he wanted to be eaten. "Sir, please come over here! Those animals are dangerous!"  
"Animals?!" he croaked, surprisingly loud for someone his age. "Those animals, madam, are local ruffians. 'Animals' is just the right word for them. I'm fed up with them hanging around, breaking things. My son's worked hard for this place, and I won't have them ruining it!"  
He was now within reach of the dinosaurs enormous head. Squinting short-sightedly at it, he seemed to realise it was a bit large to be your average hoodlum. "That- that's not a human, is it. Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear."

The dinosaur closest to him squinted back, then tossed his head from side to side and roared in fury. The old man edged slowly backwards, looking horrified. "Er… Stay?" he tried hopefully. The second T-rex roared and began to advance as well. The old man's glasses slipped off his nose, and he fumbled in the mud. A couple of the SAS troops opened fire on the creatures, but the bullets may as well have been pebbles. "Can't- can't you d-d-do something?!" stuttered the man, still edging backwards.

Thankfully, the dinosaurs seemed well fed after their cow snack, and didn't seem too interested in him for eating reasons. Abby guessed they were more worried about the invasion of what they saw as 'their' territory. Even so, if he didn't get away soon, they'd simply eat him to solve the problem.

One of the T-rexes seemed to have come to the exact same conclusion at exactly the same time as Abby. With a brief look at what Abby assumed was either its mate or hunting partner, it lowered its head so that the old man was inches away from its huge eye, which blinked with the slow malevolence only a reptile can manage

Opening its huge mouth to reveal carving-knife sized teeth, the dinosaur blew a breath, which smelt far too strongly of rotting meat for anyone's liking, at the old man. Then it inhaled, twisting its head as if not sure what to make of the this curious new prey. It drew its head back, readying itself for the kill, and-

Salvation appeared in the form of a knight conspicuously lacking his shining armour.  
**

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A/N: Oh, loves for impulsive randomness. And apologies to the female north-west pacific hermit. That was rather sexist, only mentioning the boys, wasn't it?


	5. Fight

Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's not mine. Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, not me.

**_Warning: whump ahead._**

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**Fight**

"HEY! OVER HERE, YOU GREAT LUMP OF MEAT!" yelled the knight in a familiar Scottish accent. The horse he was on didn't much like the noise and skittered sideways, and Nick Cutter yelped, grabbing at its mane in a desperate attempt to stay on.

The dinosaur shut its jaws with an ominous _snap_, inches from the poor man's face, who looked quite close to fainting. With twin roars, the creatures began to follow Nick, who kicked the horse hard. The creature whinnied shrilly, and took off with the madman on its back hanging on for dear life.

"What the hell does he think he's doing?!" Claudia asked Stephen with equal measures of exasperation and fear in her voice.  
Stephen shrugged. "I dunno. We're talking about Cutter here, though, aren't we? Fine line between genius and madness, and all that. Like Lester said."  
Claudia looked horrified. "But shouldn't we help?"  
"What do you propose we do?" he asked practically. "There's nothing we _can _do, unless you can get that missile launcher, or you fancy getting on another horse. The best we can do is hope the bullets do some damage to the T-rexes, or they spontaneously combust or something. And hope that Cutter stays alive, obviously."

He watched as the horse swerved again, and Nick nearly fell off for about the fifteenth time in as many seconds.  
"If this wasn't such a serious situation, this would be high quality entertainment," commented Stephen.  
Claudia didn't answer – she was watching Abby hurry over to the poor man, who seemed to have actually fainted, and try to revive him before he was trampled by either the dinosaurs, the panicking cows or Cutter's now out-of-control horse. Eventually he came round, after a good thirty seconds of Abby screaming at him. He was hurried over to Claudia, who decided to start with a nice, simple question: "What's your name?"  
"Mr Grahams, this is-"

The rest of his answer was drowned out as Nick, still being pursued by the T-rexes and only avoiding being eaten by the virtue of the horses speed and randomness of direction, moved within shouting distance of them.  
"ABBY! Any ideas?!" he yelled.  
"Relax! Let your body move with the horse's motion. Pull your legs back, lean forward slightly, and hold on tight!"  
"Not the horse!" he yelled. "THE DINOSAURS!" And then he was whisked out of earshot again by the bolting stallion.

Abby looked frantically around for some miraculous solution to their dinosaur problem. She could feel her phone vibrating in her pocket, although she couldn't hear the ringtone over the riot of screaming and roaring that Nick's 'battle' with the Tyrannosauruses had disintegrated into. Not that it had really been anything else to begin with, though.

_Really bad time. Sorry whoever it is, I'll get back to you, I promise. Just _slightly _busy trying not to die right about now… _thought Abby as her eyes swept back and forth for some unnoticed solution to their rather large and destructive problem. A starburst of light over to her right caught her eye, and quickly resolved itself into the shape of an anomaly. "CUTTER! TO THE RIGHT! ANOMALY!" she yelled.  
Cutter nodded. "I can't steer this thing!" he yelled back, but the wind caught his voice and it sounded hollow.  
"Kick with your right leg to go left, left leg to go right!" she called back, and thought she saw Cutter nod.

Sadly, she knew that steering a bolting horse with your legs when you were riding bareback was very, very difficult. She'd had a few riding lessons when she was younger and she remembered enough to know horses were very tricky animals to control when they were panicking.

In the end, the dinosaurs did the steering for Nick. They used a pincer movement, one on each side of the now terrified horse, driving it forwards – helpfully towards the anomaly. Nick clung on grimly and tried not to fall off at this crucial moment.

It happened so fast there wasn't time to blink. One minute Nick was there, the next, the two T-rexes were bellowing in rage at their vanished prey, peering cautiously at the anomaly. After a moment's hesitation, they plunged after Nick, and were gone also.

"I've spoken to the team at the site of the other anomaly," said Stephen, sidling up to her, but not taking his eyes off the anomaly. None of them were. Abby wasn't entirely sure what they were looking for – the return of the T-rexes? A victorious Nick Cutter? Nick's _corpse_?

"They say that the anomaly here is probably a pair to the other one. One appears over there, this one disappears. Then this one appears and the one over there disappears. Probably something like a double-reoccurring anomaly. They might even be the same anomaly, with a fixed exit point in time but not in space," he continued quietly, then fell silent as Abby ignored him. All they could do now was sit and wait – for either the better or the worse.

xXx

"I want you to log me to the account with the highest administrator access. I _don't _want any hidden viruses or file deleting software hidden in there, okay? Now get on with it," ordered Helen, pointing the gun at the small of Connors back. That way, if she shot him he wouldn't die, just be incapacitated. Well, he wouldn't die instantly, anyway. Blood loss would get him soon after being hit if he didn't receive medical attention.

"Why?" he rasped, not making eye contact. He wasn't sure whether she'd find the question a threat, rude, or merely funny.  
"I beg your pardon?" she said politely, but her eyes narrowed.  
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, before whimpering in pain as she grabbed his broken wrist.  
"I am doing this, _Connor_," she hissed, twisting his wrist until he screamed, dropping to his knees, "because you and your little team need a wake up call. I am not just some little person skulking in a corner. I am not an irritation you can ignore. I am the future of this world, and you are either with me or against me. You will be an example. The first to join me… or the first to fall."

"You're mad!" gasped Connor, and screamed again as his wrist was twisted violently. Helen finally released him and he collapsed onto all fours, breathing hard and fighting back the tears that were clouding his vision.  
"Didn't you listen?" she snarled, dragging him to his feet. "I. Am. In. Control. I control you. I also have a gun, so I suggest you watch your mouth unless you want to get shot. I know some pretty nasty places to shoot that will hurt like hell but won't actually kill you."

Connor nodded nervously, making his way to the anomaly detector. On the top screen – the one Helen could see most easily, and would likely be looking at – he brought up a load of numerical strings, which had little purpose other than being the encoding for each particular piece of graphic used in the program. But it looked impressive, and Connors plan was based on the fact that as far as he knew, Helen Cutter had only a basic understanding of computers, and would be satisfied that he was doing some complicated hacking thing. Considering she hadn't yelled at him, and he didn't feel like he'd been shot, part one of his plan was working. Onto part two.

On the lower, harder-to-see screen he brought up a list of contact details for each of the ARCs staff. Quickly disabling the speakers, and setting the program to translate any speech into text that would scroll across the bottom of the screen, he chose Abby's contact and began ringing her mobile. He knew she would have it on at all times, and unless it was a life-or-death situation she would answer. If not, she would check her messages fairly soon. He wasn't so sure about the rest of the team's mobile habits.

The words _ring, ring _scrolled across the bottom of the screen, stating the blindingly obvious. Connor rolled his eyes, mentally willing Abby to pick up. Each blob of text that scrolled across the bottom of the screen made his heart rate speed up a notch. Daring to look over his shoulder he saw Helens face creased in a frown. She was getting suspicious. Quickly, he called up a green progress bar on the top screen, which would set off the anomaly alarm test setting in a minute or two, by which time Abby would either have picked up, or he'd have got to answer phone.

Or he'd have been shot. But he was trying not to think about that.

Helen's face cleared slightly, but Connor knew he didn't have long. Suddenly, the text at the bottom of the screen changed.

_Hi, this is Abby's phone. No, Connor, you can't use it! Either my phone isn't on, or I'm just about to get eaten, or Connor's taken it – yes you do, you idiot! What else was it doing in the cutlery draw?! – so I'll have-_

"How much longer is this going to take?!" snarled Helen, as the text scrolled.  
"Not long!" called Connor, heart in his throat.

_-to get back to you. Leave a message after the sound-thingy. Beep._

Several things happened at once. The green bar at the top of the screen filled completely. The anomaly alert went off. Helen looked over his shoulder and realised that he was certainly not logging on to the system, and the message _beep_ed. And Connor began to yell.

"ABBY! It's Connor, I'm in the ARC, Helen's here she's got this poison thing and she's gonna destroy the whole place! You have to- unf." He trailed of with a shocked grunt as something cold and painful drilled into his back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Helen. Her gun was raised, and there was a look of pure malice in her eyes.

"You lose, Connor," she whispered, lowering the gun. "Pity you had to get caught up in all of this. My husband never did grasp the concept of collateral damage, never realised that not everyone is as strong or lucky as him. You should never have got involved. In fact, soon all of you will wish you had left the anomalies well enough alone."

Connor scrabbled numbly at the _call off_ button, knowing that otherwise Helen might be able to delete the message. His fingers hit something, but he had no way of knowing whether it was the right switch. Warmth was spreading from the small of his back, trailing down his legs and soaking his t-shirt. The hand that automatically flew to the small of his back came away sticky and red, fingerless gloves soaked with blood. _No pain yet,_ he thought. _In shock._

Heat suddenly blossomed in his stomach, where the bullet was lodged. It burned hot and fast, winding its way up his torso in a bright starburst of pain. Connor screamed, collapsing forward onto the anomaly detector, dripping blood on to the steel floor. The pain was shooting in waves up his back, and darkness was swirling around the edges of his vision, but he could still see text flashing across the screen. "Abby," he whispered faintly. One last scrabble and it disappeared.

Relief flooded through him, accompanied by a fresh stab of pain, and he slipped from the detector onto the cold floor, face down, his one good hand trying to staunch the bleeding of his back. The other broken one was pinned beneath his stomach, still throbbing, but he could barely feel it over the raw pain in his back. His breath was coming in ragged gasping yelps, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. The darkness looked so inviting…

Helen kicked him roughly over onto his back and he screamed at the fresh surge of pain, then curled up in a coughing fit. The bullet had nicked a lung, she thought, or maybe hit some other vital organ. She watched him jerk and gasp – eyes wild – in an almost bored manner, apart form the sadistic smile curving her mouth.

He could taste blood in his mouth, feel it on his lips, feel the warm pool of it growing underneath him. The thought made him feel sick, the world was spinning and the pain was so bloody _painful_.

Helen laughed above him but the noise was quiet and tinny, like a badly tuned radio. He turned his head to look at her, and even that small action seemed to require more energy than he had, felt like forcing through mud. She was looking at him like a fox might look at a snared rabbit. And grinning an insane grin, eyes bright with madness.  
"Goodbye, Connor," she said, and then there was a fresh explosion of pain in the side of his head and he blacked out.

**

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A/N: Nuff blood for all you hermits out there? And Cutter makes me laugh so...


	6. Friends

Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's not mine. Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, not me.

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**Friends**

The next six minutes were some off the most agonizing Abby had ever experienced – _yet, anyway,_ she reminded herself. The whole team seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for Cutter to come back. Dreading the moment when the anomaly closed, if it closed without him, and them having to admit he would never be coming back.

Claudia squinted at the anomaly. "Is it me, or is that getting smaller?" she asked nervously. Stephen look, and nodded nervously.  
"We should go through!" said Abby suddenly, lunging forward.  
"NO!" yelled Stephen, holding her back. "We can't risk you getting trapped there, or eaten, as well as Cutter."  
"Stephen's right," whispered Claudia softly, and Abby relaxed backwards reluctantly.

"Anomaly closing," announced a soldier, touching his comm. "In three… two…"  
"There's something there!" yelled Claudia suddenly, and the whole team leapt forward.  
"…One…" finished the soldier. "And the scientists at the other site confirm that their Anomaly has opened. They are calling for more substantial backup as we speak."

But his words fell on deaf ears. Stephen, Claudia and Abby had sprinted to the site where the anomaly had closed, where a dark shape was now stirring on the grass.  
"Nick?!" yelped Claudia, followed by Abby and Stephen.  
The shape stirred again, and uncurled itself slowly, standing at a slight angle. "Never, ever ask me to ride a horse again," said Nick Cutter gruffly, and was pounced on by Abby and Claudia in a huge hug. Stephen stood a little way away, looking nervous. Over emotional females…

"You all right, Nick?" called Stephen from a safe distance. Nick nodded absently, trying to disengage Abby and Claudia's arms from around his neck. The two girls stepped back abruptly, looking embarrassed.

"Yeah, I'm fine mostly," he said calmly, as if he hadn't just fended off two T-rexes with his non-existent riding skills. "Stupid animal panicked when it went through the anomaly, and bucked me off. Hit my head on a rock and had to wait for the spinning to stop before I could get back through the anomaly."  
"And my horse?" asked Mr Grahams nervously. He looked rather shocked.  
"I'm… afraid it probably got eaten. Or rather, is in the process of being eaten. Sorry," said Nick mildly, sounding completely unremorseful. "But it did save your life, in a manner of speaking, I suppose." He was absently rubbing his head with one hand, eyes slightly unfocused.

Stephen ushered a startled Mr Grahams back to Claudia, and left the matter in her far more capable hands. "You've probably got concussion," he said to Nick softly. "We need to get you checked up."  
"Oh, I'll be fine for a minute or so," Nick laughed, looking slightly less sleepy but still slurring his words slightly. "I got dropped on my head at birth, and that never did me any harm."  
Abby, listening in on the conversation, couldn't decide if he was joking or not. If he wasn't, it certainly explained a few things.

Her phone beeped suddenly, and she flipped it open. There was a text message from Ruth, her friend whose house she'd been at.

_Did u gt 2 wrk ok?  
__Woz gd 2 c u, need  
__2 meet up again sum tym!  
__Ruth xx_

Abby snorted. _Yes, Ruth, I did get to work fine, _she thought. _Unfortunately, that's usually the easy part of my day_. She noticed the voicemail button at the top of her screen flashing, and remembered the mysterious phone call she'd received, and had been unable to pick up. Holding down _1_, her voicemail started the hugely annoying '_You have. One. New. Message.' _thing, and Abby waited impatiently. When the message started, she had to listen carefully to hear the words of the howling of the sirens in the background. When she heard Connors voice, her heart soared.

Nearly a minute later, she had stopped smiling. In fact, she looked horribly pale, almost as if she was about to throw up.  
"Abby?" asked Cutter urgently. "Abby, what's wrong?"

"…Oh god," she whispered, the phone slipping from her trembling hand into the mud. "Oh god, Nick, she got Connor."  
"Who?!" said Nick urgently. "Abby-"  
"Helen," murmured Abby numbly. "She shot him. He's going to die.."

xXx

Helen snarled in frustration. _That little son of a bitch!_ He'd betrayed her, even though he'd know she would shoot. She had no option now but to destroy the Anomaly Detector and the rest of the ARC system. She wished she'd thought to bring a bomb, and made a mental note for next time. Though, she'd really rather have adapted the technology for her own use. The ADD really was a fabulous piece of machinery.

She pressed a few buttons hopefully, but nothing happened. At least the dreadful siren had stopped whining. Reluctantly, she raised her gun. _Anything that I can't control can be used as a weapon against me. That is a danger. Dangers must be anticipated and stopped before they can develop._

In a practiced movement, she loosed a bullet into each of the Anomaly Detector's screen, then went round the back and shot any processors she could find. Then she scoured the main operations area, systematically destroying all the computers. She knew it wouldn't take them that long to repair the damage, but it might keep them distracted, so they wouldn't notice her. Then, just for the sake of it, she shot out the window panes, watching the glass twirl to the floor in a painful sort of snow storm. The glittering pieces strewn across the floor looked almost like icicles. Apart from the ones that had fallen on Connor, which were now edged with red streaks, ruining the illusion.

_Connor__ Temple_. She didn't regret shooting him, but she regretted the waste of a brilliant mind like his. _Together we could have been amazing. And you know, I bet James Lester just takes you for granted. Like the rest of your pathetic team. But, in the end, you weren't clever enough to save yourself._

His eyelids fluttered as she watched, and one eye half opened, bright with pain. "Helen. Please." His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, although she imagined that the blood loss had taken the edge off his pain. "Help." He coughed, and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

_To exsanguinate: To bleed to death. A pretty word for something so painful and horrific._ "No," she replied simply, and walked out of the ARC, locking the doors as she went.

Behind her, Connor Temple clambered stiffly to his feet, though every movement sent a stabbing wave of pain through his back that made him want to collapse to the floor screaming. _I have to get out of the ARC._ Staggering to the door took longer than he thought – movement was difficult when trying to stop your wrist and back from moving even the tiniest bit.

As he reached the door, it slid shut and sealed with a beep. The keypad had been blasted beyond use, and there was no other way out. The doors had been designed to withstand rampaging dinosaurs; there was no way a skinny and injured person like him would be able to get through.

"NO!" he yelled hopelessly, pounding on the door with his good hand. "NO! LET ME OUT! LET ME-" His breath hitched in his chest and he slumped to the floor, coughing. There was a streak of red where his back had slid down the door.

Connor reached round and gently felt his back. The wound was small and ragged-edged, but very deep. He knew the bullet must still be in there, but he didn't want to take it out, in case it made the bleeding worse. His t-shirt was already soaked, and he could feel the blood dribbling over his fingers.

_I need to stay awake. I need to stay awake! _But he knew it was impossible. Sooner or later – probably sooner - he'd black out from blood loss. Even now the pain was beginning to dull. It no longer hurt to take a breath, which normally would be a good thing. Unfortunately, he knew he was going into shock, and the numbness was probably from blood loss.

_I need a phone, or something else I can call someone with. _Looking around, he saw his own mobile on the floor next to the Anomaly Detector, its screen slightly fractured but looking still operational. _Bingo._

Standing up slowly and stumbling awkwardly across the main operations area made him feel dizzy. Everything was blurring now, the lights, the lines of the desks and chairs, the crimson trail he was leaving behind in an increasingly zigzag pattern. And why were the lights so bright?

By the time he made it to the Anomaly Detector, the world was doing flips and spinning with a speed that hurt his eyes. _Mustn't close my eyes or I'll faint. Have to-_

He blinked, and when he opened his eyes the world had gone. Taking a tentative step forward, his foot landed on something that slipped under him and sent him crashing to the floor. Pain blossomed once more in his back and he gave up trying to stay awake.

**

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A/N: Nyaww. So, Connor's not dead.

...Yet. Oh, aren't I cruel? :D


	7. Fear

Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's not mine. Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, not me.

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**Fear**

You have one. Saved. Message. Message received. Today. At. Four. Thirty. Pm. From. The ARC. Message. As follows:

_Nee-ow, nee-ow, nee-ow.  
_"ABBY! It's Connor, I'm in the ARC-"  
_Nee-ow, nee-ow, nee-ow.  
_"-Helen's here she's got this poison thing and she's gonna destroy-"  
_Nee-ow, nee-ow, nee-o.  
_"-the whole place! You have to- unf."  
_Nee-ow, nee-_

_Unf, unf, unf, unf, unf-  
_"You lose, Connor."  
_Unf, unf, unf, unf-  
_"Pity you had to get caught up in all of this. My husband never did grasp the concept of collateral damage, never realised that not everyone is as strong or lucky as him. You should never have got involved. In fact, soon all of you will wish you had left the anomalies well enough alone."  
_Unf, unf, unf-  
__Click, scritt, click, click-_

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh-aaaaah-ah…"

_Unf, unf, unf-  
__Scritt, scritt, click-  
__Unf, unf, unf-  
__Click, scritt, click-_

"Abby…"

_Beep._

To listen to the message again, press one. To hear the message envelope, press three, to delete the message, press seven. To change mailbox features-

_Hold on Connor. Hold on. I'm coming for you. Just… please be alive when I get there, 'kay? Oh god, I'm sorry, I should have never left you, I- just be alive, okay? Please Connor. Please._

"Abby? Abby what's wrong?"

"…"

xXx

_Am I dead? I hope not. I don't think I am, not yet, anyway. It's a bit like before, but this time I can't even hear anything. Or feel anything, which is probably a good thing considering what I felt like before._

_I think I'm unconscious, but if I can hear myself think, I can't be, can I? It's starting to hurt now, but not as much as before. And if all that wet stuff is blood…_

_I've lost too much, haven't I? The others are going to come too late. I'll be gone. They'll just find my body. Oh god, I hope it's not Abby who finds me. Knowing her, she'll find some way to blame herself, but it's not her fault. I wish I could tell her, I wish I could say-_

_I wish I could say far too many things. To far too many people. So, I suppose I'd better start now, while I have the time. Abby, I-_

_OW! No! I don't want to wake up! It'll hurt! Please no, don't-_

_Crash. Clicking sound of glass on metal. Pain. More pain, agony! Blood. Miss them all, say goodbye, please just let it stop!, lost opportunities, oh god it hurts!, blood everywhere, never got to say-_

"Helen. Please-"

"Help"

"….No."

_I am Connor Temple-_

"NO! NO! LET ME OUT! LET ME-"

_-and I am going to die._

_Oh god._

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**A/N: Sort of... experimantal, this. Good/bad? Review!**


	8. Flight

Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's not mine. Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, not me.

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**Flight**

Abby's car screeched to a halt outside the ARC, and Stephen, Abby and Nick scrambled out and ran for the doors. Stephen had his gun out and loaded, in case Helen hadn't had the good sense to clear off after shooting Connor. None of them spoke, each thinking about what state Connor would be in, if he'd even be alive. If Helen hadn't taken him. Or his body. What Helen might have done to the ARC. What information she might have got.

The doors were locked. They didn't bother with the codes – the keypads were too badly damaged for that anyway. Stephen blasted most of the doors off their hinges with his gun and a few well placed kicks. The walk down the corridor to the main operations area seemed to take forever. When they reached the end of it, a scene of destruction met their eyes.

Each and every computer had been methodically destroyed, blasted beyond recognition, use, or possible salvage. Papers had been shredded, desks upturned and walls dented. Everything was coated in a layer of glass shards from the partitions between areas, or any other smashable objects. There was a smear of blood on the door, and a trail of it zigzagging across the ARC. Over in the corner, the pride and joy of the ARC – the Anomaly Detector – stood smoking quietly, fizzing sparks every so often.

Next to it, his usual fingerless gloves and dark shock of hair smeared with blood, lay the broken form of Connor Temple, surrounded by shattered glass. More blood was pooling underneath him, soaking into his already crimson t-shirt. A dark bruise was spread across his cheek and his mouth was open slightly, face twisted in pain.

Abby made a sound that was a cross between a whimper and a gasp, and ran over to him. Kicking the broken glass away, she knelt down next to him. "Connor? Connor, can you hear me? God Connor, wake up, talk to me, move! Anything!" There was no response.

"Call an ambulance," Nick ordered Stephen. "Then call Lester and tell him what happened. Tell Claudia as well, or she'll wonder where we are."

"There's a pulse," Abby told him softly as he went over to look at Connor. "It's faint, but still there."

Nick looked at Connor's blood soaked t-shirt and sighed. "He's lost a lot of blood. Too much. Even if the ambulance comes in time, they might not be able to help him." He noticed Abby had brushed the larger shards of glass off him and pushed his hair back from his forehead. There was a large bruise spreading across his cheekbone, and his eyes were scrunched up in pain. It was unnatural, thought Nick morosely, to see such a usually happy face lifeless and bloodied.

_Helen. How can you have changed so much? When I knew you, you would never have done this. Never. And why Connor? He wasn't a threat, wouldn't have fought back. He was helpless. If he dies… god forbid, if he dies, you've murdered him._

Stephen returned from the deep recesses of the ARC with a towel to try and staunch the bleeding, but realised he didn't know where Connor had been injured. He crouched down to try and check, then lurched back in surprise as...

"Abby… Nick?" The voice was faint, little more than a breath.

"Connor!" yelped Abby, whipping around.

"Yeah. S'me. Sorry…" Connors eyes were half open, mouth twisted in a grimace of pain, breath hissing in and out of his chest with short, jerky motions.

"What're you apologising for, you daft idiot?" said Nick, almost laughing with relief.

"Helen, she… she destroyed it all. Tried to get out, the door was locked. But she didn't… get into the Anomaly Detector. Wouldn't tell her… codes." He smiled slightly, the blood on his lips gleaming in the artificial light.

Nick smiled anxiously back. "Connor, I need to know where you're hurt, okay? Where's all this blood coming from?"

"M'back, I think. She… shot. Wrist… head… hurt. Broken." He coughed violently, more blood speckling his lips. His eyes were fluttering, and he was nearly unconscious again. "Abby?"

"Here," she whispered, reaching out to take his hand. When her fingertips brushed it, he yelled as his broken wrist jarred, back arching in a flight reflex even though he was in no fit state to run anywhere. The movement made him choke in pain.

"Sorry! Sorry," she whispered, instead gently touching his shoulder. He smiled at her, eyes unfocused as if he was seeing straight through her.

"Connor, stay with me, okay?" said Nick urgently. "Connor!"

"Mmhmm?" said Connor sleepily, eyes closed.

"Stay awake, you hear me?! Connor!" Nick yelled, but it was no good. Connors eyes had rolled up into his head and a thin trail of blood trickled from his mouth.

"Damn," whispered Nick, checking for a pulse again and was relived to find one.

Abby was checking Connor for injuries. "His wrist is broken. Twice, I think. And he seems to have been… been… oh god, Cutter. He's been shot. In the back." Nick looked at her sharply. She was going into shock. Seeing one of your best friends in the state Connor was in could do that to you.

"C'mon," he said gently, leading her over to one of the few chairs that remained whole and sitting her down in it.

Stephen walked over. "The ambulance is on its way. I've told Lester. He said he'll try and get to the hospital. He's told the armed forces and the police to be on high alert for Helen - though I suspect that won't do much good. And he said to call him once Connor wakes up." _If he wakes up, _said his eyes, but he didn't say it.

And then everything went dark for Abby Maitland.

xXx

When she woke up in the hospital, no one could meet here eyes. Even Lester was there, a rare occurrence for him to dally with the mortals in charge of the day-to-day ARC operations. They waited there, for the doctors to come and tell them what had happened, if Connor would make it…

…or not.

No one spoke. No one knew what to say.

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**A/N: Thank you everyone who gave feedback on the last chapter. A failed experiment, I think. Anyway, there's only one chapter after this, unless I write an extra chapter through sheer boredom. Which I might... :D**


	9. Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's not mine. Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, not me.

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**Faith**

Connor was curled up on the bed – though whether he was unconscious, asleep, sedated or in a coma was anyone's guess. The doctors had been very vague as to his condition, when he would wake up, and what he'd be like when or if he did. Currently he was hooked up to a life support machine, oxygen tubes up his nose and an IV in his right hand. His left was in a cast, apparently broken multiple times. Thick bandages were wound round his lower back and stomach, and there were a line of stitches on a cut above his bruised cheek.

Abby watched anxiously from through the glass as a doctor checked some incomprehensible readings from the life support machine. Connor had only just come out of surgery, and the only thing they'd heard was a garbled sentence from the doctor along the lines of 'serious but reasonably stable' before he'd entered Connors room and refused to let any of them follow.

She turned to look at Nick and Claudia who stood behind her, and Nick shrugged. There was nothing to do but let the hospital staff work their seemingly magical work, and hope Connor would wake up in time for his body to do the rest.

She wished Stephen was there, to tell her it would be okay, rather than be cautious like Nick and try not to get her hopes up. But he had had to leave and co-ordinate the team now searching for Helen and supervising the cleanup of the ARC. Lester, also, had had to leave and give a full report to the prime minister.

The doctor exited the room unawares, peering carefully at his clipboard, and was immediately pounced on by Abby, Nick and Claudia, desperate for news.  
"Well, it's too early to say for sure…" he said wearily, with the air of someone who had done this a thousand times, trying to reassure the friends and families of injured ones that they would wake up, without promising anything that could be held against them if they didn't. "He certainly doesn't seem like he's about to… well, he's a fighter. And the surgery went well, so I have every hope he will recover, although his injuries were- are serious. Speaking of which, I need to talk to you about how he sustained them, although it may be a somewhat… delicate matter. I'm afraid I will have to report the fact that he appears to have been shot to the police."

"I'm sure Claudia will be able to help you with that," said Nick impatiently, gesturing to her impatiently. "But right now all we want to know is whether he'll be okay, and to see him."  
"He's currently still anesthetized, but that should wear off soon. We are giving him heavy medication for the pain, so he might be a bit slurry and confused when he wakes up – it's a normal side effect of the pain relief and blood loss, it shouldn't be permanent. We would usually keep him asleep for a bit longer, but as I said, he's lost a lot of blood. We need to be sure that he's not going into a coma, and that the brain has not been deoxygenated for any long period of time, and the only way to know either of them for sure is to see if he wakes up."

"His brain might have been- he could have brain damage?" asked Abby quietly, feeling sick.  
"We sincerely hope not," said the doctor soothingly. "And the scans have come up perfectly clear. Merely a precaution," reassured the doctor, absently scribbling something on his clipboard.

Nick didn't fail to notice that Doctor… 'Smiths', if he was reading the name tag correctly, had failed to answer the second question. "Can we see him?"  
"Erm… are any of you family?" Dr. Smiths asked politely, taking in the huge differences in physique and appearance between the three of them and Connor with a raised eyebrow that said '_I highly doubt you are_'.  
"No," admitted Claudia, "but we're the closest he's got right now."  
"I'm sorry," said the doctor, "I really am. But family only – or people with permission from the family – at the moment. Otherwise we can be sued if the visitor is harmed from the excess stress. It's more than my jobs worth. We're contacting his family now, so if you call them, and…" He trailed off, clearly needing to be somewhere else.

"Please!" said Abby, desperate, looking at the shadow of her friend curled up on the bed, wearing Connors face. She found it hard to believe that this cold, lifeless person was the cheerful, insanely optimistic and just point blank insane Connor Temple they all saw at the ARC. "Come on, he lives at my flat for gods sake! That has to count for something!"

Dr. Smiths' eyebrows shot up so far he was in danger of loosing them in his hair. "I obviously was… aah… not clear enough in my definition of family. If you are his… partner?" he tried cautiously, to see if Abby would tell him off. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from protesting, laughing, or correcting him as she suspected it would not help her cause. "Then you are of course eligible to visit him.  
"Thank you!" snapped Abby, marching past him into the room. She didn't need to look back to see Claudia and Nick laughing. But she knew that if they'd been offered the opportunity, they'd have taken it the same as her.

_Well, maybe not Nick. Not to mention Connor would have probably been furious when he woke up. But I suppose I'll never live this down, either._

_But it's worth it to see Connor._

"Connor?" she sat down in the chair next to him and took his right hand, careful not to knock the UV in it. "Hey. I know you probably can't hear me but-"

"I can hear you."

She jumped at the voice. It was rough and quiet, but undeniably Connors.  
"Connor!" She leapt forward, hugging him tightly. A quiet, unsuccessfully stifled whimper made her pull back, and she whispered, "Sorry."  
"You don't have to whisper, you know. I'm not on my deathbed," said Connor, smiling weakly.  
"I beg to differ. You were shot, Connor. You went into cardiac arrest during surgery. You nearly died! What the hell were you thinking?!"

The smile had fallen from his face. "I was thinking that you up and left me in the ARC. I was thinking that I couldn't let anyone else get hold of the Anomaly Detector. I was thinking that Helen Cutter is a complete and utter bitch. I was thinking that, when I needed this team the most, they weren't there. And I was thinking that this nose tube is really, _really_ uncomfortable."

"Oh Connor…" whispered Abby. "I'm so sorry… I didn't mean it like that. I was just so worried. I couldn't cope with loosing one of the team, I don't think. Plus, my flat'd seem kind of empty without you."  
"It's okay," said Connor. "I know this is kind of… problematic for everyone. And I'm sorry. I probably should have let her have her way, but she'd have shot me anyway. Let's just… wait till I feel a bit better before you start yelling, ok?"  
"Yeah. The doctor'd probably kick me out for overstressing you. I only got in here on a… misunderstanding, anyway."  
"What misunderstanding?" asked Connor, smiling.

Before she could answer Nick, Claudia and Stephen tumbled into the room. Lester followed at a statelier pace, but was smiling.  
"How come you guys got in?" asked Abby. "I thought the doctor said-"  
"Funny how he seemed to change his mind when faced with the SAS," said Stephen with a grin.  
"How are you, Connor?" asked Nick, a bandage wrapped around his head.  
"Can't feel a thing. Seriously, the amount of painkillers I'm having can't be healthy. What happened to your head?"

The others looked shocked at the rough, scratchy tone of his voice and the way his eyes were only half open. It looked like he was on the verge of sleep. Nick suspected he was lying about the pain, but decided now was not the time to argue.  
"Top tip: don't try to herd t-rexes into an anomaly riding a horse bareback. Especially if you've never had a riding lesson in your life. And you hate horses."

Connor sniggered, and then paused. "Wait, t-rexes?! There were t-rexes? And I missed them?! No!" He broke off into a coughing fit, eyes squeezed shut in pain.  
"It wasn't that fun," said Claudia irritably. "I ruined my shoes!"  
"Yeah, and that's the end of the world," muttered Abby.

Claudia glared daggers at her. "So, Mrs. _Temple_. How is your sudden engagement to Connor going?"  
Stephen stared. Nick snorted. Lester choked and began coughing, looking confused. Abby flushed a bright red.

Connor had shot upright, looking wildly from Claudia to Abby. "Wait a minute. I'm engaged to Abby?!"  
"Is that a good or a bad thing?" asked Abby, one eyebrow raised.  
Connor didn't seem remotely embarrassed, just vaguely confused and lost for words. "Erm… well… err…"

Suddenly, impulsively, Abby began to laugh. "Yes, Connor, you are engaged to me. The wedding is in five days time, so you'd better be mobile by then."  
"…Okay," said Connor placidly, eyes still half closed. He yawned loudly, eyes glazing over even further. "G'night Abby Temple." He curled up on his side and the next second his eyes had shut completely. Asleep.

With a shock, Abby realised he'd taken her seriously. "Wait, Connor, I- god, they said he might be delirious, but I didn't think he'd be _that_ confused…"  
Nick was looking at Connor in surprise. "…yeah," he said eventually. "That must be some serious drugs they're giving him."

There was a silence for a moment. No one knew quite what to say. In the end, Claudia decided to break it.

"Well, I'll start organising the wedding, shall I?"

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A/N: Well, that's the end. :( I feel quite sad now. What will I do?! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed this story, or added it to alerts/favourites. You have been _teh awesomes_. I know it's kind of a loose ending, and that I should probably have Connor comming back to the ARC/revenge on Helen/lots of 'nyaw poor Conner, he got hurt' type things, but... I really did try to write another chapter, but it just seemed to resist. And plus, I really wanted that to be the last line. :) But the plot bunnies just won't leave me alone, so there may be moar Primeval fic to come...


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